


Crumbling Manor

by ADyingFlower



Series: Ardynoct Week [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (Not by Ardyn), Arranged Marriage, Child Abuse, Child Marriage, Courtship, Depression, M/M, Noct's age is debatable in this, Politics, Pre-Slash, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Symbolism, This makes somehow zero yet perfect sense, just saying, this is weird af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 11:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12253164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADyingFlower/pseuds/ADyingFlower
Summary: Day 2: ProtectivenessIt was the political debate of the century.Niflheim had offered terms of peace, their resources spent. A metal army was only good until the tools for making them ran out, and with a land as drained as the frigidness of the empire, no one was surprised.The terms of peace were simple. Niflheim would still keep its annexation of Tenebrae and Galad, but Insomnia and its outlying lands would be left alone. If nothing else, it would serve to buy the breather Lucis desperately needed.If only it wasn’t for the second part of the term.Marriage. The marriage of heir apparent, Noctis Lucis Caelum to Niflheim’s chancellor, Ardyn Izunia.





	Crumbling Manor

**Author's Note:**

> This is so weird I'm like??? I don't know what I am anymore??

“Is the soup not to your liking, your highness?”

Noctis stared at the green mush that the maid had generously called soup. Lifelessly, he took another spoonful of it and forced himself to swallow another bite. It was the only food he would be getting for the rest of the day, and fainting from malnutrition only made things worse on his end. 

What did he expect, really? He was a second class citizen now in Niflheim, even if he was a Prince.

“No,” He finally managed to mummer out, swirling his spoon absently. “Do you know - know when, he’ll be back?”

The maid casted him a sympathetic look. “Your highness, I’m sure the master will be back quickly.” 

That wasn’t it, he wanted to say. He could really care less about the presence of the master of the manor, it's just, whenever the man was actually  _ home _ , he got to eat at the dinner table for almost every meal, a display of foods that reminded him of Insomnia and the Citadel. They even bothered to turn the heat on in the bedroom he was supposed to be sharing with that man, but which he really had taken over except for the few nights each month he came back. 

Then, they slept on the opposite sides of the far reaches of the bed, if that. 

No, he didn’t miss Ardyn. Not one bit. 

  
  


It was the political debate of the century. 

Niflheim had offered terms of peace, their resources spent. A metal army was only good until the tools for making them ran out, and with a land as drained as the frigidness of the empire, no one was surprised. 

The terms of peace were simple. Niflheim would still keep its annexation of Tenebrae and Galad, but Insomnia and its outlying lands would be left alone. If nothing else, it would serve to buy the breather Lucis desperately needed. 

If only it wasn’t for the second part of the term. 

Marriage. The marriage of heir apparent, Noctis Lucis Caelum to Niflheim’s chancellor, Ardyn Izunia. 

  
  


Gralea was different during the summer, especially this far out, away from the Emperor’s seat of power and Zegnautus keep. One of the guards had sneered at him for that, saying the chancellor didn’t own this manor until shortly after the peace treaty was signed. That this was his bridal gift. 

What a  _ wonderful  _ gift it was. 

The nearest house was far off in the horizon, the manor surrounded by acres of natural fields. One dirt road traveled off the main one into the shadow of trees that covered the front of the manor, any sounds of an approaching vehicle only empathized by the silence of the wheat fields. 

Everything was so quiet this far off, just him and his thoughts and the crushing loneliness. 

Six guards. Fourteen staff members. One master of the house. One prisoner. 

Twenty two people in a house and still too quiet. 

  
  


Outrage sparked at the mention of the political marriage. 

Protests formed against it, and while peace was desired after such a long war, they still deemed it their duty to protect him against unseen forces. For giving up the only heir in a namesake marriage would leave the wall without fresh blood to draw from, he thought the first time he heard his name in their arguments. 

It was only later did he realize that they were protesting marrying him because he wasn’t old enough for them to marry him politically. 

  
  


“How was your fortnight, darling?” 

Noctis pointedly ignored the pet name, far too used to it at this point. A head cupped the back of his head and tilted it back, and he obligatory closed his eyes as the water poured down over his head, washing the shampoo out of his too long hair. “Boring. Been reading a lot.”

A chuckle. “Any of the ones I’ve gotten you?”

“Oh, only all of them.” Noctis only opened his eyes when he felt Ardyn use his own sleeves to wipe the water away from his eyes, watching the older man chuckle at his sass. 

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve brought you more.” Ardyn hummed with a small smirk, rolling up his sleeves to once more wash his front, his touch indifferent to his body except for the specifics. It was only when Ardyn had moved on to scrubbing at his forearm did he finally speak up again. 

“How long will you be gone after this?” 

Ardyn sighed, and he would feel bad if his  _ husband  _ actually deigned to not leave him stranded here with guards who hated him and spoiled his food or sent him flying down the stairs if he even looked up from the floor. “Three weeks this time, but I have a surprise for you when I get back.” 

Noctis blinked. “A surprise?”

To his surprise, Ardyn finally let out one of those genuine laughs that were oh so rare, not a laugh of out exasperation or weird sadistic pleasure. 

“Yes, you’ll be quite happy with it, I’m sure of.” Ardyn finally sat back from the tub, plucking the nearby towel awaiting him and unrolling it for him. He rolled his eyes at the weird ritual they went through every time Ardyn came back from who the knows where, but stepped out of the tub and let Ardyn wrap it around him, the older man’s eyes always staunchly staying above his hips. 

Weird old guys with weird chivalric values that sprouted up at the weirdest of times. Ardyn had no problem at all with him drinking his entire liquor cabinet, but cautiously averted his eyes every time a bit of skin showed. Didn’t have a problem with it when he was in the tub, did he?

“Let us be off,” Ardyn beckoned him with a hand, opening the door to the bedroom warmed by the fireplace, the only light in the room. “I have a new chapter that has your name on it. Would you prefer to be read to again?”

As if it wasn’t his enjoyment of the visit. “Please.”

 

The first time Noctis met Ardyn, he was dressed all in black with maids fussing all over him. 

Ardyn had swept into the room then with a daring smirk and waved away all the accusations of seeing each other before the wedding as bad luck, finally coming to a stall right in front of him. 

Noctis had been sick with nerves, the end of the seat clenched in pale hands. He had heard rumors of the kind of man the chancellor was, of cruelty and sadism. 

But Ardyn had only kneeled in front of him, brushing away his hair with a tender hand like pulling away a bride’s veil. 

“I promise,” He had whispered, and Noct remembered these words for the rest of his life. “That I will keep you safe, as one of mine.”

 

The next time Ardyn and Noctis met, Noctis had a blossoming bruise on his cheekbone and a pang in his stomach. 

Ardyn’s expression was practically ferocious as he reverently caressed the greens and yellow encroaching on his eye. “Who did this to you? Who did  _ this _ ?” 

Noctis looked away, then. “No one. It’s nothing.” 

“It’s not  _ nothing _ , someone hurt you, now tell me who!”

But he kept his silence, and Ardyn eventually had to leave the evenings in front of the fireplace with Noctis curled in his lap, as if that could protect him from the dangers and loneliness of the house. But not without his promised gift. 

A defective MT, saved from the scrap pile and gifted as a companion to him. 

  
  


Winter. He could go home in the winters, and catch up on his education then. His nursemaid had tearfully told him it would be like a summer vacation, just, spent in Gralea under political custody. He wasn’t even going to get the chance to see Luna, his father warning him that the treaty was too fragile for the future king of Lucis and the oracle to be seen together. 

At the thought of his father, tears welled in his eyes. 

Noctis had heard more than saw Ardyn move closer then, before an arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him into his side, as if to protect him from all the world’s cruelties. 

  
  


The defective MT came with a name - Prompto. 

The hours in the house weren’t so lonely anymore, with someone to spend time with. The two of them ran in the fields for hours on end, the bright summer sun on their backs and laughs hidden behind their hands. With Prompto, he could pretend to be a kid for a just a little longer.

No one dared to harm him, for the first week, not with an MT following his every step, even if the MT was a fully solid human being (something he had figured he would argue with Ardyn the next time he saw him over and see about negotiating bringing Prompto back to Insomnia in the winter). 

After a while, they must have come to some sort of conclusion that Prompto couldn’t - wouldn’t - harm them, for after the weeks grace period a guard decked him across the face when he dropped a plate. 

“It’s fine,” He managed to spit out, saliva thick with blood. Prompto’s hands hovered over his cautiously, and slowly he was pulled to his feet. “Don’t tell Ardyn.” 

There was a long moment of silence. “I’m sorry.” 

It wasn’t an acceptance. 

  
  


Noctis had hated Ardyn, but even as he was left standing on the curb watching the car drive away, he couldn’t find himself to truly despise him.

Not when the man had left him his coat to remember him by, engulfing his form as the vehicle drifted into a tiny dot. It was then, and only then, did he finally turn his back on the dirt road and back to the manor. 

  
  


Ardyn had barely passed through the doors, his face twisting in an madmen’s semblance of fury the instant he spotted his split lip, when Prompto rushed to explain the truth Noctis had spent so much time hiding. 

Noctis closed his eyes. He knew the instant that Prompto gained a semblance of independent thought what his true purpose really here was. And he had let it happen. 

A warm hand cradled his swollen cheek as if it was something to be revered, and he slowly opened his eyes. 

The anger from earlier had disappeared, swept under the rug as easy as it had appeared. Instead, Ardyn watched him with such unbearable kindness that broke eye contact, leaning into the reassuring hold on him. 

“Why?”

It was as broken as the man in front of him, a crown smashed at their feet. And Noctis was just a prince locked away in the tower by his own savior, and perhaps he didn’t mind that, truly. 

His own hand came over Ardyn’s, holding him close once more. “Because this is enough.” 

Because it was. Noctis came to Niflheim expecting much worse than this, and for the small kindnesses he was given, he would take the beatings, the spoiled food, the chill. He would deal with all of it in this silent house if it meant Ardyn kept coming back. 

“Oh my dear,” Ardyn whispered to him, bumping their foreheads together gently. “You can have both. _You can have both_.” 

  
  


“It’s not winter yet,” 

Ardyn didn’t look up from where he was packing Noctis’ bag. “Yes?”

“I’m not supposed to go back to Insomnia until winter.” Noctis’ socked feet folded over each other on the divan, a quilt thrown over his lap and tugged up to his chin. “Won’t the treaty be threatened if I go home too early.” 

“Too early, too late.” Ardyn sang, folding several of his thicker shirts and stuffing them in the suitcase, admiring it with a proud little huff before sending it back into the astral space. 

It took a little while to convince Ardyn to show off that little party trick, but he was more than happy that Ardyn felt open enough to cast little spells to amuse him at night or healed his scrapes from running everywhere, much to the man’s frustrations. 

“I’d figure just a trip, a little tour around the countryside could do wonders for you, you know? The end of it will conclude at the Citadel’s steps, but I’m sure you will have much to show Prompto darling here.” Said boy waved shyly, focused on tapping a message on his phone to whoever he spent his days talking to. 

“...Outside?” 

Ardyn slowed his jovial pace around the bedroom, eventually coming to a stop right in front of him. Then, he reached out tenderly for his hand, brushing a thumb along his knuckles gently, a barely there touch. 

“Yes.” Noctis blinked away the tears that threatened to well in his eyes at the declaration, said so fiercely as if Ardyn would kill anyone who dared to argue otherwise, and he was the stumbled upon what was left of the men who blistered his body into hundreds of unseen bruises. “Let’s do this.” 

  
  


The manor faded into the distance behind them, and from where Noctis was strung over the passenger’s side seat he could see the exact instant the building vanished, collapsed into itself like it never existed in the first place. 

Prompto was humming merrily to himself in the backseat, more than happy to follow behind the two of them like a duckling following its mother. Ardyn had a steady hand on the convertible's wheel, driving them past the dusty tracks into more paved countryside roads. 

Noctis leaned his head back, listening to the radio play a distant melody, letting himself drift off to the vaguely instrumental melody and the warmth of Ardyn’s hand in his over the console. 

  
  


Prompto smiled at the couple in front of him, so involved in their own little world. It was adorable, really. Mr. Izunia was absolutely smitten with the Prince, and Noctis was well on his way towards falling heads over heels. 

Discreetly, he snapped a pic of them holding hands, deducing this as the cutest point, and therefore most important part of the picture. 

He sent the picture to his contact with a small smirk, thumbing over his home screen as he got lost in his thoughts. 

Honestly, the cover they gave him was a durable as wet paper, but it’s probably due to how flimsy it is that Ardyn let him in the manor and befriend the prince. 

Heavens knows he needed it, but no way is the chancellor going to say that. 

Opening his messages at a distinct buzz, he sent one last glance at the practically newlyweds before opening his contact in Insomnia. 

_ ‘Good to know the king doesn’t have to kill some niff guards this early into the treaty. Been warned though that if the chancellor makes a move while the prince is still underage that he’ll find himself devoid of some very important parts sooner rather than later. Safe travels. CL.’ _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
